


In Memoria

by Ginger375



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Complicated - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Empathy, F/M, Family, Grief/Mourning, Just Friends, Loss of Parent(s), Minor Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger375/pseuds/Ginger375
Summary: Post-series. Jean-Luc is dead. Rogue tries to help Remy deal with the grief he wasn't expecting to feel.
Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue
Kudos: 39





	In Memoria

"Ugh, if I never have to deal with a hate group again, it'll be too soon," said Kitty as she made her way down the ramp of the Velocity.

Rogue was inclined to agree. Jetting off to Washington to keep an eye on – and intervene if necessary – a Friends of Humanity rally was not how she wanted to spend her Saturday.

The whole thing was uneventful, aside from having to listen to bigots spout their hateful rhetoric for a few hours. Nothing happened that required Rogue or Shadowcat to step in, much to their chagrin.

"I'm gonna need a nice long shower after hearing all that garbage," said Rogue as she followed Kitty from the hangar to the lower levels of the mansion.

"No kidding, those people are so gross," said Kitty, stretching her arms over her head. "I need to take a bath in hand sanitizer."

Rogue laughed as they headed to the locker rooms for the aforementioned shower.

***

Feeling much cleaner, Rogue made her way upstairs to the kitchen. The dinner hour was long past, and her stomach had been rumbling since they got back.

Popcorn and hot chocolate for dinner is perfectly reasonable, she thought. Maybe Remy would want to watch a movie?

She had been spending more and more time with Gambit since his arrival at the mansion. While it had been a bit awkward at first, they were able to move past the inherent weirdness of kidnapper and kidnappee and settled into a nice little friendship.

"Oh Rogue, just who I wanted to see."

Rogue shook herself out of her reverie, to see Storm at the kitchen island with a kettle and tea – apple cinnamon, by the smell of it.

"Hey Storm, what's going on?" She asked. Storm was in full uniform, which seemed odd since she was making tea.

"I have to join Scott and Kurt on a mission shortly, and I need someone to check on Remy," said Storm, pouring the hot water into a large mug.

"Why? What's wrong with Remy," Rogue asked, her mind racing. "He do something stupid in the Danger Room again?"

Storm sighed.

"He got some bad news this afternoon and has been holed up in his room ever since," she said, putting in the tea bag to steep in the water. "I sat with him for a few hours, but I worry about him just stewing in his empathy."

Rogue nodded. Remy's powers had evolved since his time with Magneto. Part of the reason he willingly stayed at the mansion and joined the X-men was due to Professor Xavier helping him with his burgeoning empathic powers. Most of the time it was fine, but certain things would trigger him and that power would go wild.

"You're one of the closest to him here, so could I ask you to bring him this and see how he's doing?" Storm slid the large mug over to Rogue.

"Yeah, of course," said Rogue, wondering what could have happened that would cause Remy to lock himself away all day.

"Thank you, Rogue, I appreciate it more than you know," said Storm. "We shall return soon."

"No worries, Storm, I got this," said Rogue as she watched the weather witch head off to meet with the others.

Deciding there was no time like the present, Rogue set off to Remy's room.

While there was plenty of activity throughout the mansion, the closer she got to Remy's room, the quieter it got. There was a sense of dread, a heaviness that she wasn't feeling downstairs.

"That's not me, that's not me, that's not me," Rogue muttered to herself. If anyone could handle emotions that weren't actually theirs, it was Rogue. Remy's empathy was going wild and keeping everyone away in the process.

I wonder if he's even aware of that, she thought as she approached his door. She knocked softly.

"Remy? You there?" She knew the answer, but felt the need to ask anyway. "Storm asked me to bring you something."

"S'open." She heard him call back quietly.

Pushing open the door, Rogue found the room mostly dark, the only light being the bedside lamp. She didn't even notice Remy at first until she was further into the space.

She found him sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed away from the door. He was hunched over, head looking down. She could hear him fiddling with something in his hands, but it didn't sound like his usual playing cards.

Coming around the bed, she saw a shoebox of photos and other knickknacks. The paper he was holding was a Polaroid.

"Remy?" She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. "You okay?"

He didn't answer immediately. She sat down next to him, not quite touching, but close enough. She set the tea down beside him.

"Storm asked me to bring you this," she said.

They sat in a heavy silence for several long minutes.

"He's dead, Rogue," he finally said.

"Who is?"

"Jean-Luc. He's dead."

Rogue looked at home, eyes wide and jaw dropped slightly. He couldn't be serious, that man was like a cockroach, he survived anything and everything.

"What happened? Was he, I mean, was it…" she didn't know quite how to ask if his adopted father had finally been taken out by his rivals.

"No," he said, knowing exactly what she meant. "You'd think that, though, right? Years of fighting between the families, you'd just assume he finally got a knife in the back or somethin'."

"So what did happen?" She asked.

"Heart attack," Remy said, then gave a mirthless bark of laughter. "A fucking heart attack. Died in his goddamn sleep. All the ways he could've gone, that was de last way I would've expected."

Rogue silently agreed. Considering the amount of trouble that followed the man around, he should have been dead several times over by now.

"Was he sick, did you know?" She asked.

"Not that I was aware of, but he did smoke like a damn chimney, so maybe dat was it?" Remy wondered aloud. His gaze remained on the photo in his hand. Rogue looked over his shoulder to get a better look at it.

Remy noticed her trying to look and turned it in her direction so she could see. It was a much younger Remy, another teenager, and Jean-Luc, sitting on a front porch.

"I know this is probably a dumb question, but what's going through your head, sugah?" Rogue asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You got some serious waves comin' off ya." She could feel a weight on her chest and a pit in her stomach that she knew wasn't hers.

"Oh god, sorry," Remy said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. The weight abated as he reigned in his emotions.

"S'okay, I know it's hard sometimes," Rogue said. "So? Tell me what's happening."

"I don' even know," he said, glancing upward to the ceiling as if it held the answer. "I always thought I'd feel relieved, like I'd finally be out from under his thumb if only he wasn' here anymore."

That was certainly understandable. Rogue had learned about her friend's complicated relationship with his father during their little jaunt to New Orleans back in the day, and Jean-Luc had attempted to lure Remy back to the life a couple times since he joined the X-Men. Remy had been left just wrecked for several days each time, though he didn't let the rest of the team see it.

"You know what the average life span is for a kid livin' on the streets in New Orleans?" He asked her suddenly.

"I have no idea," she said, honestly.

"Thirteen, if they're lucky. I should've been dead before my powers even manifested. But I didn't die. I got to live, and it's because of him."

So that's what it was. Rogue knew all about that feeling of obligation to an adopted parent.

"Just because he took you off the streets, Remy, doesn't mean that he didn't use you for your powers for years," Rogue said.

"Then why do I feel so…" he trailed off.

"Guilty?"

He nodded and looked back at the photo.

"Tell me about it," said Rogue, nodding towards the picture. "Who's the other boy in the picture?"

"That's Henri, Jean-Luc's real son," said Remy, with less vitriol than Rogue would have expected. "He was way older than me, but he always made time to show me stuff, and help me get caught up on reading and writing. Told everyone I was his little brother."

"How come he wasn't there back when we…" Rogue trailed off.

"He died in a fight with the Rippers, when I was 15, not long after my powers showed up," he said. "It wasn't even like there was a hit on him, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"He was the first person I showed my powers to, talked me down when I was freaking out. Jean-Luc was… different after Henri was gone. Maybe that's what made him think I'd be a good little weapon to have. Avenge Henri's death or something."

Remy couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. It was another emotion Rogue knew all too well.

"Have they told you what's happening with the funeral?" She asked. The leader of the Thieves Guild would likely warrant a grand memorial in the typical New Orleans style.

"Next weekend. They gotta get their shit together and decide who's in charge now."

"Are you gonna be…"

"No, after the last time, I'm persona non grata with the Nawlins guild," Remy flicked with photo in his hand. "They'll do some kinda ritual for leadership, buncha politics involved."

"When are you leaving?"

Remy turned and looked at her for the first time.

"I ain't going."

"What? Why not?"

"I said after last time I was setting foot back there again."

"You should go, Remy."

"Why? I don't want anything to do with him or any of them," he said. "I'm glad he's gone."

"You don't sound too sure."

"Well I am."

"Remy, you don't have to go and fall all over yourself saying good things about the man," Rogue said carefully. "But I think you need some closure."

"You sound like Storm," Remy huffed.

"She's a smart woman, you oughta listen to her."

Choosing to ignore the original question, Remy pulled the box closer. He started pulling out the few items inside - a red micro machine car, the plastic baby from a King cake, a well-worn copy of Le Petit Prince, and a hand-written recipe card for red beans and rice.

"I found the car in a park when I was six. Was wanderin' around, lookin' for somethin' to eat, or a mark I could snatch some money from, when I saw it in the sand on the playground. It fit nice and snug in my pocket, so none of the other street kids would see it and try to take it. Was the only thing I had that was just mine."

Remy put the car back with the reverence of something far more precious than a toy.

"I almost broke a tooth on this thing," he said, picking up the little plastic baby. "First Mardi Gras in Jean-Luc's house. Had no idea why someone would wreck a cake by putting dolls in it. Everyone had a good laugh. Know why now, but he said I should keep it for good luck."

Remy rubbed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He put the baby back and picked up the book.

"This is the first book anyone ever read to me. Whenever I had a nightmare in those first days, Jean-Luc or Henri would come in and read it to me until I fell back asleep…"

A single tear rolled down Remy's cheek.

"Remy?"

"I don't… I can't…fuck," Remy buried his face in his arms, his shoulders shaking as he finally broke.

Rogue gasped as Remy's grief hit her like a freight train. Sadness, guilt, shame, fear, and regret threatened to drown her. She nearly fell over from the intensity, but forced herself to the surface..

"Remy, listen to me. You're allowed to feel sad that he's gone. He was the only father you ever knew, even if he did some pretty shitty things later on," Rogue said. "You're allowed to grieve for what you had, and be grateful that he took you in.

"That doesn't erase how he used you for your power, and it shouldn't. You need to go, sugar, to say goodbye and to let go."

Rogue put her arms around him as wave after wave of emotion bombarded her. Tears ran down her face, unbidden from her eyes, as Remy dealt with his catharsis.

"Breathe, sugah, breathe," she whispered to him.

She gritted her teeth against the pain in her chest, his heart, until it began to subside, unclenching with every deep breath Remy took.

"M'sorry, I couldn't…" he started.

"S'okay," she said, trying to project an aura of comfort, even though she knew that wasn't quite how the empathy worked.

"I know I ain't got a right to ask this, but…" Remy took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to keep his voice from wavering. "Would you come with me? To the funeral?"

Rogue pulled back and looked at him.

"You're the only one here who has any idea…"

"Shhhh, I know," Rogue put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her in a side-hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she rested her chin on his head.

The pair sat quietly for several long moments, trying to calm the torrent of emotions they'd both just experienced.

Finally, Remy reached for the since-forgotten mug of tea Rogue had brought and took a sip.

"Ugh, that is not good cold," he said, making a face.

Rogue gave a small laugh and took the mug from him, taking her own sip.

"Oh, you are right about that," she put the mug down away from them where it wouldn't get knocked over. "I can go make you another one, might help you sleep."

"I'll come with you, should probably go apologize to the Prof for losing it like that," Remy said, climbing to his feet. He offered Rogue a hand and helped her up.

He didn't let go of her hands right away, giving them an affectionate squeeze instead.

"Thank you, chere. For everything."

She smiled at him and pulled him into a proper hug.

"You're welcome, Remy."

Letting her go, Remy reached down and plucked the recipe card from the box.

"When I get a chance, I'm gonna make this for you," he said. "You'll love me forever once you try it."

"If you say so, Swamp Rat." Rogue laughed. "You've promised to make me lots of food, and I have yet to try any of it."

"Oh, I'll fix that soon enough, just you wait."

"All I've done is wait, how's that any different?"

Remy let out a real, genuine laugh and took Rogue's gloved hand, leading her out of the room and his self-imposed grief dungeon.

"Touché, ma chere, touché."


End file.
